The difference between
Being wise and mad
Is surprisingly small
Balance
The World Outside
Mirroring the world
Not by free will
But by being
In it and behaving
Very erratic
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Love
Love is beautiful madness
An insane projection
That takes over your
Mind and body
Numbing your senses
Until you wake up
After a few years
With a family
That can transfer
The madness into
The unforeseeable future
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The Love That Never Was
Seasoned madness
In lonely places
That is hidden from
The public
Your madness
Is the only true guarantee
That we will never meet
And you will not even notice
What you missed
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An Empty Wall Of Thoughts
Since a long time
I live hidden
In the mountain
Surrounded by blind people
Busy with themselves
And others not noticing
Me more than my body and presence
The tower is damp and cold
I am a bitter old man
Writing and thinking
Finding little joy in life
While the battle for survival
Goes on in the valley
Few will ever read my thoughts
Long after I am gone
Only the flowers will
In their own way
Enjoy me and my ash
Very well worth
it the price of a great price for a great price
Gone behind the lines
On the other side
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The Best Thing
Madness comes in many
Shapes and forms
It is always something
New to be discovered
Maybe encyclopedic knowledge
Is one of them or
Narcissistic women busy
With being victim of
Every man in this world
And the next
Looking into the problem
Finding no solution
The best thing
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Mischief
I am deserting this madness
Going out on my own
Into the
White night of the North
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Taxed, taxes
Many forms of madness
In this world
One of them is
Taxes and their
Gigantic army of
Taxmen
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Starting Point
There are many forms of madness
As well as a great variation of wisdom
We never know where to start
Confusion is the gift of the Creator
It is even harder to know where to stop
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Middle of Madness
To be creative is painful
It takes time and there are
Long periods of procrastination
So here we are again
A manic stroke in end of May
When the lights is on the whole night
And people getting crazy
Nervous and filled with desire
The mind is turning, round, round all the time
Feeling bad and lost
Still so creative
How I love this feeling
Still hate it
Cannot find word
These last days has been like that
Loss of words
Schibolet 